


the dirtiest clean i know

by Pixeled



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Old Friends, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 15:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16432160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/pseuds/Pixeled
Summary: Noctis wants to look at the moon with Prompto





	the dirtiest clean i know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dustofwarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/gifts).



> To the song "My Moon My Man" by Feist.

 

Prompto was cleaning the dented mismatched dishes in the pump sink by their camp grounds, whistling to himself as his foot tapped the pump and pretending that he was happy to do the grunt work. It was pitch black, the area before him illuminated only by the LED light clipped on his sleeveless jacket. Everyone was asleep by now. Or so he thought.

He heard footsteps, heavy booted ones. Somehow, they felt familiar. The idea crept into his brain that they might be imperial feet. He was having nightmares about them again. His secret. A hand reached out and settled on his shoulder as he continued washing. He was almost done. He didn’t stop.

“Come look at the moon with me,” the voice behind him called softly. It was so close to the shell of his ear that Prompto shuddered slightly. When he finally finished he wiped his hands on the dish towel and turned to see Noctis. Part of him expected to find someone else, some _thing_ else.

“The moon?” Prompto asked dumbly, his brain still on fire with possibility and improbability.

“Yeah, you know, the thing that hangs in the sky and changes based on the sun’s position,” Noctis chided, his voice full of some mirth. Prompto thought he was making fun of him again. Immediately he was transported to when he was small, but fat, unwanted. He’d taken many photos of the moon then. His favorite was the one he’d done ages ago in his dark room, the one he’d layered Noctis’s face over. _Noctis_. The night. The moon. Prompto knew from an early age that he was gay, which was fitting, because he was an outcast in every way. No one had ever wanted to go see the moon with him, had never wanted to spend any time with him. So when he grew into his body, shed the weight and somehow became Noctis’s friend, he barely believed his luck. He barely believed that Noctis would select him to protect him on his journey, and right now in this moment he was stunned by the offer Noctis made.

He was in love with him from the start. Sure, he had his crushes, but he knew what he felt for Noctis was different. When he started eating healthy and exercising, he did it for him, to be worthy.

So Prompto froze just now, thinking all those things, feeling all those things. Then he looked down to his hands, covered by his gloves, knowing the chip that was embedded in the skin, the way he was branded. He could never tell anyone.

“I don’t know,” Prompto said belatedly, realizing Noctis was staring at him.

“C’mon,” Noctis said. “Race you. Last one has to kiss the other’s boot,” he grinned. Then he took off. Prompto shouted something and followed, but when Noctis stopped by the edge of the beach, he was clearly the victor. It had not been fair, no, but Prompto had gotten on one knee in front of him anyway. He looked up at Noctis, chest heaving, and paused. “You don’t have to,” Noctis whispered after some time. They had both been staring at one another. The moon was full and large in the sky, and Prompto’s chest ached with the small inkling that Noctis had lured him here for some privacy. Why he wanted that privacy, he could only guess at and hope, but that hope was a small thing and only made his chest ache more. Prompto, never backing down from anything, lowered his face and kissed at Noctis’s boot. Noctis moved his boot away and Prompto stood, chest still heaving, but now for a different reason. His mind screamed to kiss him, but he reddened and looked up at the moon.

“Uh. It’s huge. And pretty.”

“Yeah. Wanted you to see it. Have your camera?” Noctis asked. Prompto smiled softly and moved his camera from off his hip and out of its case and aimed it up, taking a photo. Then he looked at Noctis.

“I want one of you in front of it,” Prompto urged. “The Night King and the moon,” he whispered. Noctis posed on the beach in front of a rock formation, and looked up at the moon, which made his pale skin glow. Noctis had such lovely skin, Prompto thought, not like his freckled skin. He was pale, but he was red and splotchy and he knew he was blushing now at the thought of Noctis bare-skinned in the light of the moon.

Noctis waited for the snap of the camera, and nearly flinched when it finally came. Prompto boldly came forward and clipped his camera away, staring at Noctis under the moonlight. Noctis felt the heat of his stare and shifted so he was sitting on the rock, patting the space beside him. Prompto shook his head and turned away, crossing his arms, hiding tears that were forming in his eyes. He’d almost leaned forward and touched Noctis, almost kissed him, but he didn’t do any of those things. He started walking away, but Noctis came forward and took his hand. The hand with the chip. Prompto almost shuddered.

“Hey,” Noctis said softly.

“What?” Prompto almost shouted.

“Look at me,” Noctis said softly, but commandingly. Prompto tried to hide his tears, but they only spilled down his cheeks, and his hand felt hot where it connected with Noctis. Still, Prompto could not decline a command from his prince and slowly turned. Noctis’s brow furrowed. “W-what? Why are you crying?”

“Why did you bring me on this trip?” Prompto asked. “I’m not as strong as Gladio, I’m not as smart as Ignis, and I slow you down,” he said, his speech pressured by a knot forming in his throat.

“Because you’re my best friend,” Noctis said, frowning.

“Some friend I am,” Prompto said enigmatically, ripping his hand from Noctis’s. He turned and walked toward the edge of the water, peeling off his boots and letting his bare feet feel the sand beneath. It felt slightly cool and good and some of his tension melted away, but the knot in his throat and the tears remained. He wasn’t good enough, and never would be. He wasn’t even really human. How could he compare to Lady Lunafreya?

Noctis followed suit, kicking off his boots and pulling off his socks, going out to Prompto. He looked up at the moon and smiled. Prompto turned his face to see that smile. What was there to smile about, he wondered.

“You are a great friend, actually,” Noctis said softly, then moved in closer, taking Prompto’s hand again. “Actually, I think of you as more than a friend.”

“More than a friend?” Prompto asked, the knot growing bigger, the redness in his face growing heated. He dared not hope. “Lady Luna—"

But then Noctis was kissing his lips softly, almost chastely, stopping him from saying anything more. Prompto didn’t dare move, part of him wondering if this was even _real_.

And then he was kissing back more than chastely, and his fingers threaded through Noctis’s, only impeded by their gloves. And the kiss was good. And it felt right. But then Prompto remembered that he had been lying to him all this time, that he was little more than an imperial. But most of him wanted to forget and live in this moment, to make a home for himself amongst the stars and the moon and tell Noctis that he had loved him for a very long time.

The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could even catch them. Now his feelings were out in the open. He loved Noctis, and he felt sick, knowing this had to end. But Noctis only smiled.

“Yeah, idiot, I love you too.”


End file.
